


Wedding Dance

by gim



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Hubert von Vestra, Dancer Hubert von Vestra, Hand Jobs, Kinda, Lapdance, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Massage, Top Ferdinand von Aegir, Wedding Night, but mild, it's actually really soft, ok maybe a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gim/pseuds/gim
Summary: Hubert wants to make sure that the first night he and Ferdinand share as husbands is something to remember.//Or: Hubert’s roundabout way to get thoroughly fucked as a reward for giving Ferdinand a glorified lapdance.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 22
Kudos: 186





	Wedding Dance

**Author's Note:**

> soooo, that's not something I usually write, haha.
> 
> This fic can be considered a sort of spin-off to my other thing, [Deferred Affair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004898/chapters/49953251), but reading it is not needed - there are a few passing references here and there, but that's it.
> 
> Huge thanks to [GoldenThreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenThreads/works) for the beta on this one.
> 
> The fact that's it's finished and posted in time for Hubert's birthday is coincidance, I swear.

Hubert could say with a certain amount of satisfaction that the wedding ceremony and subsequent party were a success. Despite a few hiccups - like von Riegan’s unannounced arrival or Ferdinand getting faint in the middle of Edelgard’s speech - they somehow managed to get through all the motions. How Hubert was able to say his vows standing in front of all those people was a mystery in itself. 

So yes, they did all that tradition required them to do - they exchanged rings, they shared a first dance... Hubert even allowed Ferdinand to feed him cake they cut together for their guests. All of this was relatively subdued and private and far less than Ferdinand deserved, but still… To think simply getting married to Hubert was enough to make Ferdinand feel so _ecstatic_. His husband smiled so much and so wide throughout the whole day, his cheeks will probably hurt for days. 

Another such smile is now aimed directly at Hubert, as Ferdinand practically glides over to stand by his side, watching the more tenacious guests continue celebrating even though the party is slowly winding down. His husband lets out a pleased sigh, head lolling over to rest on Hubert’s shoulder.

“How are you faring, dear?” Hubert asks, studying Ferdinand’s profile. “Given the amount of dancing you did today, I can only assume you will be quite sore tomorrow.”

Ferdinand sighs again, this time more indignant. “I will have you know, it would take much more to tire me to such a point.”

Hubert raises an eyebrow. “Is that a promise... or a challenge?”

The lilt of his voice makes a shiver run down Ferdinand’s spine, his eyes widening momentarily. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he clears his throat. 

“W-Well!” He manages finally, turning his head to look up at Hubert. “It sounds to me like you have some plans in regards to that.” He tries to sound oblivious, but the amused twitch in the corner of his lips is unmistakable - he knows exactly what Hubert is referring to.

For Hubert has a plan indeed. A special one, long in the making, meant as a thrilling culmination of the whole day. With only Ferdinand to witness it, Hubert will hold nothing back – finally, he'll be able to give Ferdinand a celebration he truly deserves.

“Would that be so strange?” Hubert noses at Ferdinand’s temple before whispering directly into his ear. “After all, the wedding night is another part of the tradition, is it not?”

Ferdinand feigns an affronted gasp. “Really now, the party is not over yet, and your mind is already in the gutter?” As he says that, he snakes one arm around Hubert’s waist, drums a simple beat with his fingers there. “How scandalous, _von Aegir_. Have you no shame?”

“On the contrary, my dear. That is practically expected of us tonight, wouldn’t you agree? And I’d hate to disappoint.” They are so close, his lips brush against Ferdinand’s shell with each word he utters. “And I must confess, after a whole day, I long for my husband’s undivided attention.”

Ferdinand again shivers at that, his grip on Hubert’s waist tightening. He runs his teeth over his bottom lip, eyes dropping momentarily. “I would be lying to say I do not long for the same,” he concedes as he looks at Hubert again, his eyes dark in a way that makes his insides turn to liquid.

Ferdinand pauses for a moment, lips pursed as he contemplates and glances quickly at the guests still lingering in the room. “Then again, it would be rather improper to leave our own party early.” He actually sounds disappointed. The realisation that he can put _Ferdinand_ of all people in a state where the man wishes to forgo proper noble conduct, and to do so with words alone… it does unspeakable things to Hubert.

“I assure you, all the people that remain are too drunk or otherwise occupied to notice we’re gone,” Hubert retorts, resting his hand over Ferdinand’s that is still holding his waist. “Now, shall we be off?”

Not minding how flimsy that excuse really is, Ferdinand practically jumps at the opening given to him, pulling Hubert towards their chambers with a downright wicked smile.

\---

The moment the door behind them closes, Hubert gets pressed against the wooden surface, warm lips eagerly seeking his. Ferdinand's hands run up and down Hubert’s chest, brushing over the buttons of his suit.

“You are so captivating,” Ferdinand breathes against the corner of his mouth before kissing him again. “I could hardly take my eyes off you. You look simply… _ravishing_.” 

He goes on between kisses, impatient fingers tugging at Hubert’s cravat and almost tearing it apart on the pin still fixed there. He stops with a low grunt before tangling his hands in Hubert’s hair and pulling lightly. Hubert’s ensuing sigh gives Ferdinand an opportunity to kiss him even deeper, licking into his mouth. Hubert makes a pleased noise - he's been waiting a whole day for this. His own hands start grasping wherever they can reach - un-tugging Ferdinand’s shirt from his breeches, messing up his hair. In response Ferdinand’s kisses become fiercer, more demanding. Hubert grunts into his mouth - it’s too much and not enough all at once. It’s like his skin tingles all over, tiny sparks igniting wherever their bodies touch before pooling low in his stomach.

Ferdinand draws back only a fraction to get some air in his lungs, and Hubert seizes this chance to catch his bottom lip between his teeth. The noise Ferdinand makes is closer to a growl than anything else. His hands can’t keep still anymore, letting go of Hubert’s hair to caress his back and chest, before having another go at the cravat. After a moment of insistent tugging, Ferdinand finally succeeds, yanking the fabric off Hubert’s neck with the pin sent tumbling on the floor. Ferdinand ignores that completely, still kissing Hubert relentlessly, fumbling with the suit’s buttons to expose Hubert’s collarbone.

The sound of metal bouncing on the wooden floor at least partially lifts the fog of arousal clouding Hubert’s mind. While all of this is not unwelcome in the slightest, an insistent voice in the back of his head nags him that he had a _plan_. And Hubert always sees his plans come to fruition.

“Ferdie… Give me a-… _Fuck-_ …” Hubert moves his head to the side, trying to speak, but that only gives Ferdinand better access to his neck, which he now traces with open-mouth kisses. His teeth graze the tender skin, threatening and promising to leave marks, and Hubert almost forgets all about his plan. Being so shamelessly desired always feels strange, but also wonderful. 

Still, Hubert didn’t get anywhere in life by letting go of his projects. Even if the prospect of being taken against the door right here and now does sound tempting.

With all the willpower he still has, Hubert reaches for the base of Ferdinand’s ponytail and firmly yanks him off. A shaky moan escapes Ferdinand when he’s unlatched from Hubert’s neck. He looks up, the pupils of his eyes blown wide, the intensity of his stare making Hubert’s breath hitch. An unspoken question hangs from his parted lips, now reddened and slightly swollen.

“Patience, love.” Hubert lets go of Ferdinand’s hair, sliding his hand down to trace at his husband’s lower lip with his thumb. “I prepared something to make tonight… truly memorable for you.”

Ferdinand’s curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a step back. “Another surprise? My, Hubert, you spoil me.” 

Hubert’s hand trails even lower and holds Ferdinand’s chin up. “You’re worth it.” He cringes internally at how mawkish it sounds, especially given that just moments ago they were practically devouring each other with reckless abandon.

Ferdinand doesn’t seem to mind at all (of course he doesn’t), his face breaking into a soft smile. What’s worse - or better - he giggles before leaning over and kissing Hubert again, gentler this time. “If you say so… What do you have in mind, then?” 

He takes another step back, allowing Hubert to pull away from the door. Even in the dim moonlight, it’s obvious Ferdinand is a wreck - his hair is a mess and his clothes are rumpled, not to mention the heat still radiating from him. Hubert doesn’t want to think what he himself must look like in that case.

“For now just wait here. I’ll let you know when it’ll be ready.” Hubert crosses the room, heading toward their bedroom, but pauses at the door. “In the meantime, you can make yourself more comfortable. After all, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to crease your attire even more,” he adds with a sardonic smile. With that, he leaves the room.

And so, Ferdinand is left alone, very much curious, slightly confused and definitely aroused. Years of their relationship proved that Hubert was more than open to experiments in the bedroom, so just thinking about the possibilities of what he could prepare for their wedding night makes Ferdinand… restless. 

He absentmindedly runs a hand through his hair, wincing at the state of the hairdo Dorothea so meticulously put together. Well, there’s no need to keep it on anymore, so Ferdinand’s first order of business becomes unraveling his hair. For a moment he considers putting it in a simple ponytail at the nape, but finally decides to leave it loose. Hubert does love to pull on it in the heat of the moment - something Ferdinand doesn’t particularly mind.

Next, his clothes. He’s not sure what exactly Hubert meant by “comfortable”, so Ferdinand opts for the minimum of decency, keeping his shirtsleeves and smalls on. That seems like the most sensible option at the moment. Anyone in the palace should be well aware what a _faux pas_ it would be to disturb the newlyweds tonight, but, well… emergencies happen. And really, he can discard the rest of his clothing easily enough, once the situation calls for it.

Just as he sets to look for the cravat pin he so carelessly tossed aside (what a shameful way of treating a gift), there’s a quiet knock from their bedroom. He walks briskly toward the door - at least, that’s what he would like to believe, in reality it looks more like he got shot out of the ballista and he very nearly crashes into it.

“Is it ready?” He has to wonder if his voice sounds as impatient as he feels - it probably does.

The chuckle he gets in response is muffled by the wood, yet it’s so familiar, it’s like Hubert is standing right next to him. “Truly, you are the only person to get excited about the prospect of a surprise prepared by me.”

Ferdinand can feel himself smiling as he says, “Well, I would think it is only natural to be eagerly anticipating a surprise from one’s _husband_.” The last word leaves him like a song, giddy and playful - he sorely regrets he can’t see Hubert’s face right now.

After a pause there’s a faint mutter as Hubert says something under his breath, before he adds louder, “You may come in, if you like.”

Still having no idea what to expect, Ferdinand gingerly grips the handle and opens the door, slipping into the bedroom. Unlike the rest of their suite, which they didn’t bother to light up, the bedroom is illuminated by the flames dancing in the fireplace. And standing in the middle of the room is Hubert, and the sight of him makes Ferdinand’s heart leap into his throat.

Hubert keeping his dancer costume after all this time is definitely a surprise. As far as Ferdinand knew, he always found the garb in question rather inconvenient and inappropriate for battle. Ferdinand, on the other hand, was always very grateful whenever Byleth asked Hubert to wear this outfit and assist his allies with more than magic. Traditional dancer attire always had a certain… allure. _This_ one especially, as Hubert took liberty to modify it, it seems.

Gone is the pad on the shoulder or any other parts that could generously be called ‘armor’. The leather arm-straps got replaced by much less practical, but more ornate metallic bracelets - although the collar tightly hugging Hubert’s neck is intact, much to Ferdinand’s delight. But the biggest change must be the shirt, now made of delicate black chiffon. Even in a soft light from the fireplace, Ferdinand can clearly see the expanse of Hubert’s chest underneath, together with a shy peak of a pink nipple. Somehow, keeping the shawl draping over half of his chest and legs intact makes the whole outfit feel more scandalous. What’s more, while it’s hard to say for sure from afar, Ferdinand is quite certain the usual shorts keeping the dancer decent on the battlefield also got replaced, by something much less modest and _definitely_ much more lacey.

And that’s how Hubert decided to welcome Ferdinand, calmly standing barefoot in the middle of their bedroom, as Ferdinand basically ogles him for a solid minute or two. Well, maybe ‘calmly’ is not the right word - even in the low light his flushed skin is rather obvious, and thanks to the chiffon shirt, Ferdinand can see that Hubert blushes all the way down to his chest. He holds his left elbow with his right hand, a gesture so coy and innocuous, its contrast with his outfit makes Ferdinand’s head spin. 

Goddess, Ferdinand is still staring. He should probably say something right about now, shouldn’t he?

He opens his mouth and a string of nonsensical babble spills out. That reaction must please Hubert, as he chuckles and, letting go of his elbow, saunters over to Ferdinand, the little coins on his garb jingling softly with each step.

“It’s not everyday you’re rendered speechless, Ferdinand,” Hubert purrs in a low voice when he gets closer. “I take it that you like my little surprise?”

He nudges Ferdinand’s chin up with one finger, making him stop staring at his chest and look him in the eyes instead. For someone dressed like that, Hubert sure looks unbelievably _smug_ right now. It’s enough to shake Ferdinand out of his stupor at least. 

Ferdinand clears his throat before trying to speak again. “W-well, evidently. I must say, you really outdid yourself, dearest.” 

His hands hover over Hubert’s abdomen, eyes asking permission. Once he gets it in the form of a quick nod, he starts exploring, fingers caressing Hubert’s stomach and chest through the thin fabric. It’s an odd feeling, the sensation of his skin skewed by the translucent material separating them, while still carrying that familiar warmth. Ferdinand considers simply dipping his hands under the shirt, but finally decides against it - he’ll have plenty of time for that later and right now he really wants to enjoy this outfit to the fullest. 

Hubert holds Ferdinand at the waist and hums softly as his husband continues to touch him, gentle and loving. The kiss he places at the corner of his mouth could be either praise or encouragement, perhaps both. Ferdinand grasps at Hubert’s chest, one hand dipping under the shawl to hold the pectoral hidden there. He doesn’t miss how Hubert’s breath momentarily hitches when his fingers brush over his nipples. Ferdinand smirks and pinches them between his thumbs and forefingers, making Hubert swallow down a gasp that threatens to break free - he still digs his fingers a little deeper into Ferdinand’s waist. Ferdinand gives a small _hmm_ at the reaction, then presses his thumbs into the little buds, stroking with a circular motion. Hubert lets out a shaky breath, his whole body leaning closer to Ferdinand. It takes every ounce of self-control not to _bite_ at one of the pink nubs.

Instead, Ferdinand kisses Hubert’s collarbone, pulling his hands from Hubert’s chest to grab at his husband’s lower back, pulling him even closer. Hubert follows with little resistance, wrapping his arms over Ferdinand’s shoulders, fingers tangling in the orange mane. Ferdinand hums at the pleasant sensation, his lips traveling higher, brushing over where the skin of Hubert's neck has already started showing signs of their earlier activities.

“Actually, your surprise is two-fold, ” Ferdinand murmurs suddenly right next to Hubert’s ear. “I definitely would not take you for such a minx.”

To punctuate the last word, he moves his hands lower and firmly grasps at Hubet’s ass. The gasp Hubert lets out is sweeter than any aria Ferdinand has had the pleasure of hearing. Fingers in his hair tighten as he continues to fondle Hubert’s rear, one hand pooling the outfit’s fabric in a fist so he can get a better feel of what’s underneath.

Hubert chuckles under his breath. “A _minx_? Really now, Ferdie?” he says sardonically between soft sighs, doing his best to regain some semblance of control. He tugs Ferdinand’s head so they face each other again, foreheads just shy of touching. Jade eyes shine in the soft light when he asks with a smirk, “That’s the word you decided to go with?”

A smile blooms on Ferdinand’s face as he nudges Hubert’s nose with his own. “My husband deserves to keep at least a shred of dignity, I would assume. You do not agree? How would you rather be called, then? _A slut?_ ” He uses the hand not holding the fabric to give Hubert’s ass a light slap.

Hubert actually yelps at that, a sound so unlike him it makes Ferdinand’s heart flutter. Before he can say anything about it, Hubert’s lips crash against his, drawing a low groan from both of them. Regrettably, Hubert’s fingers untangle from his hair to work on the buttons of his shirt instead. Those wonderful, clever fingers, which did just that so many times before. The same fingers that now run up Ferdinand’s chest, exploring it in turn. Just as his hands reach Ferdinand’s shoulder to slip the shirt off, Ferdinand pulls away.

“Patience, love,” he tuts with mirth, tapping Hubert’s nose with one finger. “I believe there is one important thing left to do before we proceed.”

Hubert blinks at him. “And that would be?” He asks, sounding so _lost_ , Ferdinand almost gives up and gets back to where they left off. Almost.

“Well, I figured, since you went through all the trouble of putting this on...” he continues as he passes Hubert, heading toward the bed, where he sits comfortably. “It is only natural you would offer me a dance as well, no?”

For a moment, Hubert looks uncharastically confused - Ferdinand bites his lip to hold in a laugh bubbling in his chest. The confusion passes quickly, with Hubert now looking at Ferdinand with his usual stare - the effect is more or less ruined by his flushed cheeks and first signs of arousal straining through the fabric of his outfit. After a beat of silence, Hubert makes a noise that’s equal parts a laugh and a choke.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Truly? I am the ridiculous one here?” Ferdinand retorts with a smirk.

Hubert is silent again, eyes casted downwards, considering his options. Finally he shakes his head with a sigh. “I suppose you might have a point. Very well,” he decides, taking a few steps to stand between the fireplace and the bed. “But I should warn you - it’s been years since I did the traditional routine, so I’ll need to improvise. Don’t expect to feel any of the usual effects.”

“On the contrary, dearest - I am certain that after your performance I will feel quite _invigorated_ ,” Ferdinand winks, leaning back, putting more of his weight on his hands. As casual as he’s trying to act, it’s impossible to miss the outline of his half-hard cock through his smalls. Hubert definitely notices and lets out a small chuckle.

“I stand by what I said - you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but it carries no bite. 

He straightens his back and inhales deeply with eyes closed - it’s a little habit he had for years, a sort of mental preparation before a battle, a council or an important mission. Figures that Hubert would treat entertaining his husband in a bedroom just as seriously as any of his other duties. 

The dance starts off with that familiar twirl, although it’s much more hesitant, an effect of both having less space and Hubert’s visible perplexion on how to go about this whole ordeal. He keeps glancing at Ferdinand, assessing his reaction - as far as Ferdinand is concerned, he has nothing to worry about, especially in _this_ outfit. Even his awkward spin made the material shuffle around, revealing new areas of skin that are just _begging_ to be marked. Ferdinand licks his lips and shifts in his spot - Goddess, this man can get him going with minimal effort. It's both infuriating and delightful.

Hubert spots that and slowly a smirk creeps into his face. A bit of tension leaves his shoulders, the unease of his movements depleting. When he lifts his arms in soft, circling motions, the gauze attached to his wrists flutters around him. His whole body sways in a gentle rhythm that must have put Ferdinand under some sort of spell, as he can’t look away.

It’s definitely different from the dance he performed during battle. Then, his movements were swift, precise, executed much like any other task. Now, it’s much more relaxed, no, _sensual_ , the drawn-out motions allowing Ferdinand to take in every detail. Which he does, focused in silent wonder on Hubert’s every gesture, how the fabric slides over his skin, how the outfit’s ornaments chime with each subtle sway of his hips. 

Once his hands reach over his head, Hubert lets them fall slowly. With a crooked smile, he strokes his face with the back of his hand, all while giving Ferdinand a half-lidded look. It shouldn’t be _that_ erotic, _and yet_ …Ferdinand must’ve made some sort of noise, as Hubert raises an eyebrow in amusment. A new wave of heat hits Ferdinand as he shuffles again in his spot.

Hubert drags his left hand, with a wedding ring glistening on his finger, from his collarbone, down his chest, all the way to the underside of his abdomen. The message is clear - _All of this, all of me, is yours._

And fuck, Ferdinand is about ready to combust.

Watching Hubert like this is a torture - delicious, maddening torture that Ferdinand brought upon himself. He wishes it never ends.

While doing another spin, Hubert brings himself closer to the bed - the gauze of his outfit flies just a few inches away from Ferdinand’s face. Ferdinand watches awestruck as Hubert comes closer, accompanied by the soft jangling of metal. With a sly smirk, Hubert crowds his space, one knee resting on the bed between Ferdinand’s legs, dangerously close to his groin. Ferdinand makes another noise, but before he can do anything else, lithe fingers caress his jawline, cupping his face to lift it up.

Illuminated by the flames behind him, Hubert is downright mesmerizing. The light casts soft shadows upon his frame, making parts of his outfit sparkle like precious stones. So close, it’s hard to tell if the drumming in Ferdinand’s ears is his own heartbeat, or Hubert’s. He could lean over to check, but finds himself completely enchanted, looking at the face of his gorgeous husband. His smile is softer now, more teasing than devious. That however doesn’t lessen the ever-present sharp glint in his eyes. Ferdinand could’ve sworn they are brighter than the fire dancing behind Hubert. Their intensity makes a shiver run down his spine.

Suddenly, Hubert pulls away, fingers trailing Ferdinand’s jaw as they recede and he instinctively wants to follow, almost falling off the bed. He straightens up with a yelp, which makes Hubert chuckle.

“I'd say that's enough of that. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless,” he says, as if it wasn't painfully obvious.

Ferdinand forces a swallow as his mouth runs dry all of a sudden. How he would love to say something elaborate, something that could capture the scale of how tremendously he enjoyed Hubert's performance, short as it was. But words fail him, not the first time tonight. With some effort he settles on, "It was good. _Very_ good."

Hubert quirks an eyebrow. "Rather brief review, especially coming from you." This time, he rests his right foot on the bed, right by Ferdinand’s left thigh. "Luckily, you can still show your appreciation by other means."

With that, he hooks his foot behind Ferdinand and pushes at the small of his back, dragging him off the bed and onto his knees before Hubert. Ferdinand gasps at the sudden change in position, all but ready to complain loudly about such cruel treatment. He lifts his head to give Hubert a few stern words, but they die on his lips. 

Oh, _Goddess_ , if Hubert looked enchanting before, from this spot he is absolutely _divine_. The sight makes him weak in the knees, so maybe it’s not so bad that Ferdinand is already kneeling after all. His face probably says it all, as Hubert gives him that teasing smile again, left hand reaching down to stroke his cheek. Ferdinand leans into it, eyes fluttering closed as he sighs deeply. Nothing feels more intimate than being touched by those bare hands. Hubert’s skin, despite the years, still carries that unmistakable tang of black magic that now engulfs Ferdinand’s senses. Fingers scarred with spells caress his cheek, their rough texture scraping lightly, the sensation not at all unpleasant. He sighs again, nuzzling into Hubert’s palm.

“Go on,” he hears Hubert murmur in that low voice of his. “No need to be shy now.”

With a final sigh, Ferdinand opens his eyes, turning his head to place a kiss to Hubert’s palm. Instead of responding he simply nods. Hubert hums as Ferdinand’s fingers ghost over his thighs, exploring under the fabric. Outside and inside, front and back, sometimes even reaching to grab at Hubert’s rear - touching and stroking everywhere except where his attention is wanted the most. The hand that was holding Ferdinand’s face earlier moves to the crown of his head, patting gently - a suggestion he can do more.

Ferdinand gives Hubert one last adoring look before leaning over and kissing the skin exposed by the slit in the outfit. Hubert’s breath hitches as the kiss lingers and grows more insistent, teeth grazing at the pale skin. Grabbing at the back of the thigh for support, Ferdinand sucks in a mark right there, before pulling back to admire his work. Hubert generally bruises easily, but here… the effect is almost immediate. He smirks with satisfaction before leaning over to pepper light kisses around the mark, which makes Hubert give a subdued sigh. While doing all that, Ferdinand reaches his right hand over to pull away the shawl, gathering the material in a loose fist resting against Hubert's hip. His breath catches as he sees Hubert’s half-hard length, barely concealed by the lacey panties he’s wearing.

“Beautiful,” Ferdinand breathes so quietly it’s almost inaudible. Nevertheless, Hubert hears it and flushes despite himself, deep pink coloring his face and neck. He lets out a disapproving groan when Ferdinand, instead of finally getting to the point, leans over to kiss his other thigh.

“ _Ferdinand…_ ” He probably means to come off reprimanding, but his voice is more of a frustrated whimper than anything. It’s quite a feat to make Hubert sound so _needy_. It’s actually strangely endearing.

“Just a moment, love,” Ferdinand says against his skin. “I want to do it right.”

“Then do it already,” Hubert growls, but it soon dissolves into a choked sigh as Ferdinand sucks in another mark, matching the other one. 

The hand in his hair tightens into a fist and he gasps. So impatient… Ferdinand uses his unoccupied hand to palm Hubert’s erection through what little fabric there is, causing the man to shiver all over. Rather than take it off, Ferdinand hooks the lace with one finger and pulls it to the side, freeing Hubert’s cock in the process. It springs forward, all flushed and demanding attention. When Ferdinand takes him in his hand, Hubert can’t hold back a husky moan, even as he bites his lip to smother it.

“That’s it,” Ferdinand utters, quiet and breathless, as he begins stroking him. “Let me hear you.”

Hubert parts his lips to say something, but only more gasps leave him as Ferdinand picks up a pace. Chasing the friction, Hubert rocks hips forward into Ferdinand’s fist. The chime of his outfit’s ornaments tangles with his soft whimpers. This right here might be an even better performance than the one Ferdinand received earlier.

“Oh, _Goddess_ …” Ferdinand stutters, his voice breathy and low. “You are _so_ incredibly exquisite right now, so lovely, so beautiful…”

As if to emphasize his point, Ferdinand twists his wrist _just so_ and Hubert moans louder now, tossing his head, eyes screwed shut and jaw slack.

“Ah, darling, the things I would do to you right now…” Ferdinand coos as he strokes under the head of his cock, eliciting another moan.

At that, Hubert seems to gather some of his wits as he opens his eyes to look at Ferdinand.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks between gasps, chest heaving.

The combination of that image and those words proves very effective, as the heat coiling in Ferdinand’s gut grows more intense. He draws in a sharp breath.

"Well, for starters..." Despite Hubert’s groan of protest, Ferdinand slows his hand to languid strokes. "I might just ruin that delightful outfit of yours."

"Go ahead and ruin it then." A crooked smile slips onto Hubert’s face. "While you're at it, _ruin me_."

 _Fuck._

Ferdinand's brain ceases to function for a moment. He shakes himself into coherence with some effort. Almost every part of him screams that he should do just that, _now_. Still, it somehow feels… wrong to have his way with Hubert on the floor while the perfectly good bed is right there. 

He makes a decision. Ferdinand lets go of Hubert’s length, the man letting out a dismayed sound in protest. As an apology, Ferdinand places a lingering kiss to his hip bone, hands caressing outer thighs.

"As tempting as it is to get right to it, I believe tonight things should be done properly."

In one fluid motion, Ferdinand raises from his knees and swoops Hubert into his arms. He makes a tiny noise of surprise, arms instinctively wrapping around Ferdinand's neck. Ferdinand huffs out half a laugh as he readjusts his grip before looking at Hubert again. His skin flushed such an adorable deep pink. Eyes a little glazed, the sharp glint in them softening into something closer to yearning. A beat passes when they share a breath, a smile tugging at Ferdinand’s lips.

"What is it?" Hubert can’t help feeling a little vexed - they were in the middle of something and he would very much like to continue. His now neglected erection definitely pokes Ferdinand in the stomach in that position - Hubert squirms in his arms to drive the point home.

"It is just…” Ferdinand lets out a little titter. “You are really lovely."

Hubert rolls his eyes; what a moment for Ferdinand to get mushy. "You keep saying that."

"And I do not intend to stop."

Still gazing adoringly into Hubert's eyes, Ferdinand spins around and kneels on the bed, reverently placing Hubert in the middle of the mattress. 

"Just look at you," he murmurs against Hubert's lips. "You are irresistible."

"Not irresistible enough, it seems," Hubert counters snidely, releasing Ferdinand's neck. He lets his arms fall, hands now resting on either side of his face on the pillow. He inclines his head slightly to the side, exposing his throat, already decorated with marks and love bites. Ferdinand’s breath hitches at the sight.

“Seems like tonight is just one surprise after another.” Ferdinand hovers over Hubert, propping himself on his hands and knees. “I would never think you were the kind to _preen_ yourself like that.”

Hubert bites the inside of his cheek before giving Ferdinand a look from behind his lashes. “Perhaps…” He starts, his voice so quiet Ferdinand has to lean even closer to catch it. “I enjoy it when _you_ watch me.”

That does it. Ferdinand captures Hubert’s lips in a forceful kiss, tongue slipping into his husband’s mouth with ease. Not parting, he drags his left hand down Hubert’s chest and stomach, all the way to his groin. At the same time Hubert weaves his hands into Ferdinand’s hair, pulling him even closer and kissing back with fervor. Ferdinand tries to maneuver around his length to take off his undergarments, but it’s easier said than done and soon enough he loses his patience. He groans and rather unceremoniously tears the lacey panties off with a satisfying _rip_. Hubert gasps and breaks off their kiss to look down at Ferdinand’s deed, his face equal parts shocked and amazed.

“You told me to ruin it, so I assumed you won’t mind,” Ferdinand murmurs into his ear, tossing the remnants of the lace on the bed and gently stroking the inside of Hubert’s thigh with the back of his hand.

“Are you going to treat the rest of the outfit like that?” Hubert definitely wouldn’t mind that - his cock twitches in interest at the idea.

Ferdinand hums, as if considering it. “Actually, I think I shall leave it on. Although…” 

His hand leaves Hubert’s thigh and moves up, thumb hooking under the hem of the chiffon shirt to lift it up. He bunches the fabric over Hubert’s pectorals and lets it rest there.

“That should do it.” He shifts his gaze to look at Hubert again. “Now, shall I, as you eloquently put it, ruin you?” Ferdinand purrs, his left hand wandering over Hubert’s chest.

Hubert exhales softly, lost in the sensation of Ferdinand’s touch against his skin, the whisper of breath next to his ear. He arches into it, even though all of this, all of Ferdinand, is so warm, Hubert fears he might burn to cinders at any moment. He wouldn’t exactly mind.

“If you are amenable,” he answers with a smirk, hand idly stroking through orange tresses. “But you could undress beforehand.”

Only then Ferdinand notices he’s still wearing his unbuttoned shirt and smalls. He smirks. “I would think it would only be fair to at least leave the shirt on, no?”

“Take that damn thing off before _I_ rip it off.”

“Promises, promises…” Ferdinand laughs again as he un-straddles Hubert and kneels beside him, shucking off the garment before letting it slide down his shoulders. “Is that better?” He asks with a wink as he drops the shirt over the edge of the bed.

The light of the dying fireplace glides over all the dips and scars of his chiseled arms and chest, his golden, freckled skin practically glowing. Illuminated from behind, the mane of ruffled hair catches light like the most brilliant halo. The whole visage is not unlike the portraits of old gods, beatific and ethereal. But unlike those, Hubert knows the smile he’s blessed with is unfeigned.

Hubert finally notices he's been staring, and huffs out, “It’s a start,” making Ferdinand laugh again.

He bends his knees and props himself up on his elbows, but a hand on his chest stops him from sitting up.

“Stay.” Ferdinand pushes him back on the bed, not using any real force, yet still insistent. “Allow me to take care of you.”

Part of him wants to sneer that he should get on with it then, but any biting remarks die out as he meets Ferdinand’s eyes, the unbidden fondness in them making Hubert’s heart stutter.

“In that case… I’m in your care.” His voice is just shy of a whisper.

Ferdinand smiles at him and places a quick kiss to his temple before turning toward the nightstand to retrieve the vial of oil. With that acquired, he shifts on the bed until he’s kneeling before Hubert. With an encouraging pat on the left calf, Hubert parts his legs further so Ferdinand can slot himself between them.

“There we are,” Ferdinand purrs as he pulls the lower part of Hubert’s garb away, fanning it on either side of him. He exhales slowly, taking in the vision before him. “What a wonderful sight you make.”

Hubert shivers despite himself as he watches Ferdinand uncorking the bottle to slick his fingers before sealing it again and tossing it aside for later. Anticipation burns in his gut as Ferdinand rests his hand over Hubert’s shoulder and leans down to kiss him on the corner of the mouth, while his oiled hand strokes around his rim. Hubert tilts his head to kiss him full on the lips, although it’s undemanding and slow. Ferdinand sighs between each kiss, shifting to support his weight on one forearm, while his hand weaves into Hubert’s hair. As he does this, his first finger pushes against the ring of muscles - Hubert squirms a little at the intrusion but forces himself to relax, his hands instinctively flying up to hold onto Ferdinand’s shoulders.

“Just like that, love.” Ferdinand’s breath tickles his cheek. “You are doing so well.”

The praise, combined with the digit carefully moving inside him has Hubert gasping. Instinctively, he wants to cover his mouth, but pauses - after all, Ferdinand said he wanted to hear him… His grip on Ferdinand’s shoulders tightens a fraction.

“You don’t need to be so cautious,” Hubert stutters out after a while of Ferdinand’s gentle prodding. “You know I can take you.”

“True,” Ferdinand hums, petting Hubert’s hair. “But I would hate for it to finish too soon.”

“Don’t overestimate yourself,” Hubert scoffs, head back on the pillow. “You’re always so coc-”

The rest of the sentence turns into a drawn-out moan, with Ferdinand choosing that moment to add a second finger and spread both digits right away.

“Fine then,” Ferdinand retorts, his voice low and husky. “We shall see how long you will last.”

His fingers begin moving immediately, rapid and relentless. In and out, occasionally in a scissoring motion, stretching Hubert to his limit. Hubert’s face twists with each stroke, eyes screwing shut and eyebrows knitting together. His parted lips only manage weak whimpers, but he has no brain power left to feel ashamed about it. This combination of pleasure and a sting of pain is just _too good_. Ferdinand hums over him in appreciation before leaning down and trailing open-mouthed kisses over Hubert’s throat. 

The fingers inside him curl suddenly, brushing against the bundle of nerves that has Hubert snap his eyes open and positively _keen_. The sensation goes straight to his cock, now leaking and bobbing against his stomach despite getting ignored for so long. With another hum, Ferdinand strokes over that spot again and Hubert cries out, fingernails leaving tiny marks on Ferdinand’s skin. Shifting his hand slightly, Ferdinand focuses on hitting that place over and over again, at the same time watching Hubert’s reactions with obvious fascination. 

All of this leaves Hubert practically breathless, his voice going hoarse as he chokes out broken moans. And yet, the only thing he can think about right now is how he wants, no, _needs_ more. A much louder cry escapes him as Hubert rolls his hips to meet Ferdinand’s fingers, chasing that sensation - the unrestrained need for more friction, more touches, more _everything_ overpowers anything else as he bucks into Ferdinand’s hand, the ornaments on his garb clattering against each other.

Ferdinand watches him with what can only be described as wonder. “You have no idea how stunning you are right now,” he murmurs, hand gently stroking Hubert’s hair - a stark contrast to how mercilessly he fucks Hubert with his fingers.

Hubert tosses his head back. “Please…” It comes out as a sob, but he’s beyond the point of caring - not when he’s edging closer to bliss by the second. Fine tears gather in the corners of his eyes and he bucks again. He just needs a little bit more...

Just then, Ferdinand pulls his fingers out entirely and Hubert wails at the loss, the shock of denied release knocking the wind out of him and making him curl up on himself. If the roles were reversed, Hubert would spare no time gently mocking Ferdinand for reaching his limit so soon, and with his fingers alone. But Ferdinand is far kinder than Hubert ever was, despite his previous taunting.

“I know, darling, I know, shhh,” he soothes, hand going back to gently petting Hubert’s head. He brushes the bangs that got stuck to his sweaty forehead away from his face. “Would you rather I just make you come instead?”

Hubert needs a moment to gather his wits before shaking his head weakly. He takes a deep breath. 

“I want you,” he mumbles, words slurring together, barely coherent. 

Ferdinand sighs, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love it when you say that,” he purrs while pulling away to finally take off his smallclothes. 

He groans lowly as he frees his cock from its restraints, the cold air causing a shiver to run down his spine. Hubert swallows, watching Ferdinand reach for the vial again to spread a generous amount of oil over his length, then giving himself a few strokes to bring himself to full erection. He wipes the excess from his hand on the sheets before looking at Hubert again, eyes just as loving as before, only now there's an unmistakable hunger creeping behind those amber irises.

Still, he takes a moment to ask, “Is it okay for me to…” before Hubert cuts in with, “Just fuck me already.”

For once, Ferdinand is not offended for being interrupted. His laugh is more of a sigh. “Well, I cannot exactly deny a request like that,” he says, gripping Hubert under his knees to lift his legs up, spreading them further as a result.

Hubert takes a shallow breath, hands holding onto the headboard for purchase. No matter how many times they do it this way, having Ferdinand manhandle him like this flares something inside Hubert, a delicious blend of shame and excitement and many other things he still can’t quite place. Not that he really wants to - definitely not now, as Ferdinand aligns himself with his entrance and carefully pushes his cock inside him.

Two fingers were not enough to properly prepare him for this - especially when the later part of the process was more focused on assaulting his prostate than anything else. Hubert grunts, the wood under his fingers creaking lightly from his vice grip. Tears again sting in the corners of his eyes and he takes another breath. It's a lot to take in, on the brink of being overwhelming.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Especially when Ferdinand above him chokes out a strangled " _Fuck-!_ ", pulled roughly from the back of his throat. He grips Hubert's leg tighter, fingers digging into the meat of his thigh, while his other hand braces against the mattress. Slowly, inch by wonderful inch, he continues until he's completely sheathed inside. There’s no describing how utterly _full_ Hubert feels at this moment, his walls stretched to their very limit. Every breath Ferdinand takes, every little twitch echoes inside him. Hubert lifts his head to see where they are joined and involuntarily hisses as he stirs. Ferdinand’s eyes flash in alarm.

“Hubert, if this is too much…”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Hubert grits. He hooks his legs over Ferdinand’s to make sure he wouldn’t _dare_ to pull out. "I lived through much more painful ordeals than your cock."

Ferdinand stares at him for a moment, then with a startled _pffft_ starts laughing, a rich sound vibrating through his whole body - Hubert squirms, as he both hears _and_ feels it. Ferdinand composes himself after a moment, his gaze still sparkling with amusement as he lifts his hand from the mattress to cup Hubert’s cheek instead.

“I love you,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Just as Hubert is about to answer, Ferdinand pulls out but a fraction to make an experiential thrust. All words fade out of existence, replaced with a loud moan. His entire being _burns_ , body set aflame with a spark deep inside him. He clutches the headboard tightly, for he needs something, _anything_ to keep him in this moment.

“More,” he croaks, his own voice barely recognisable even to himself.

With that, the last of Ferdinand’s wariness shatters, eyes of liquid gold shining with a need so fierce it could pierce Hubert through. He shifts his grip on Hubert’s leg to the junction of his hip to yank him closer. Hubert wasn’t aware he’s even capable of making the sort of noise that escapes him at that. His head slides off the pillow with a soft _thump_ against the mattress, arms straining to keep their hold on the headboard above him. 

The hand that was cupping his face grabs onto his other hip now, as Ferdinand begins moving in earnest, each thrust sending a new wave of ecstasy through Hubert’s body. Everything aches in the most sublime way - Hubert is certain he’ll be sore for days. He _wishes_ he’ll be sore for days. 

Ferdinand’s fingers dig deeper, his grip leaving tiny rips in the outfit - the sound of tearing fabric and jingling ornaments mingles with the sound of skin on skin, a noise Hubert never even imagined he'd find so arousing. Any restraint long forgotten, he moans loudly, brokenly begging to go faster, harder, to give him _more_.

Ferdinand also doesn’t hold back his own cries of pleasure, breathless gasps of _'ah'_ and _'yes'_. Then, as he’s nearing his climax, loving praises and sentimental babble, all accented by a possessive drag of hand over Hubert’s chest.

“Hubert, _ah_ , you wonderful thing,” Ferdinand rasps, voice strained and breath labored. “You are simply _perfect_.”

Hubert can only answer with an undignified sob, painfully hard and in desperate need of release. Despite his arms protesting, Hubert braces his palms against the headboard to rock his hips in time with Ferdinand’s. To that Ferdinand nearly yowls, before diving forward to kiss Hubert forcefully, in the process pushing his cock even deeper. 

This, coupled with the sudden press of Ferdinand’s body against his own length, is enough to send Hubert over the edge. Climax hits him with a violent force, head buried into the mattress, stars exploding under his screwed-shut eyelids. He lets out a voiceless cry, as his voice is long gone, all semblance of control melted away as his hips buck wildly to ride off his orgasm. He barely registers Ferdinand’s hand wrapping around him to help him with uncoordinated pumps, all while chasing his own end. After a few more erratic thrusts he lets out a drawn-out moan, spilling his release inside Hubert - that, too, he has half a mind to notice, his consciousness clouded by the blissful mist of the afterglow.

When Hubert finally comes to, Ferdinand has already slid out of him and moved him to lay a bit more comfortably. He also apparently unlatched Hubert’s hands from where they were gripping the headboard, as now they rest on his chest, covered in his own spend and remains of fabric. Ferdinand himself is laying by his side, propped on one elbow, head resting on his palm to watch Hubert with a dreamy expression.

“Welcome back,” he whispers with mirth, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He reaches over and gently rubs off the tear streak running down Hubert’s face - Hubert didn’t even notice he cried, overwhelmed by everything. “How are you feeling?”

He feels a lot of things at the moment. For one, he’s sore all over, muscles giving occasional spasms - any attempt at walking would undoubtedly result in him toppled over in a graceless heap on the floor. His throat is parched and aching, to the point he’s not sure if he’ll be able to speak. He is completely drained, and has to actively force himself to stay awake. Truthfully, he feels quite filthy, being sweaty all over and covered in his own fluids, not to mention feeling Ferdinand’s seed slowly trickling out from his hole. 

_And yet..._

“I’m fine,” he manages to whisper, but he means it all the same.

No discomfort he experiences could ever compare to how blissed out and at peace he is right now. It’s very much like flowing on air, every thought and worry wiped clean from his mind in this moment of perfect complacency.

Before Ferdinand retracts his hand from his cheek, Hubert places a fleeting kiss to the inside of his wrist. With some effort he shuffles to lay on his side, inching closer to the other man. Ferdinand gives a small hum, fingers stroking over Hubert’s ribs.

“Give me a moment and I will get you cleaned up so you can sleep.” Ferdinand leans over to kiss Hubert's hairline. He starts to get up, but an arm drapes over his waist, keeping him on the bed.

“Stay.” It’s more of a breath than a word. He’s not even sure why he does that - both prospects sound really nice right about now. But Ferdinand is so warm next to him and just thinking of losing that for even a second is simply unfathomable.

Ferdinand arches an eyebrow. “Surprises will not cease with you tonight - until now, you left cuddling until after we were at least washed up.”

Now it’s Hubert’s turn to hum softly. “Seems like marrying me uncovered many new things.” He tilts his head until it rests on Ferdinand’s bicep.

He mostly feels the gentle laugh he gets in response. “If that is the case, I want to learn all there is.”

A soft, sleepy smile comes to Hubert’s lips.

“As do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> [@gimladen](https://twitter.com/gimladen)


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